Tell Me
by WitchesOfOz
Summary: What if, instead of Odin, Frigga had told Loki the truth about his heritage? Threeshot.
1. Blue

**Tell Me**

 **Chapter 1: Blue**

His hands were shaking. He stared at them, silently commanding them to stop, but they didn't obey, and he tried to tell himself it was because of the cold. The Casket was radiating it. Just the cold, nothing else. There was nothing else, after all, and certainly nothing to fear.  
Taking a deep breath, he finally reached for the Casket, glowing softly in a rich blue, the colour swirling inside as if alive. His eyes squeezed shut on their own accord just before his hands reached their destination, and he had to force them to open up again as he slowly lifted the Casket off of its pedestal.  
He tried to ignore the fact that the cold wasn't hurting him as it was supposed to. Instead, it felt almost pleasant against his skin, tingling softly, like tiny snowflakes stroking his fingers as they fell. When he managed to bring himself to lower his gaze, he could see the colour – blue. Blue, slowly crawling over his fingers, his hands, up his arms, leaving the same tingling sensation in its wake, and he seemed to freeze with it, incapable of moving any further, of reacting, of at least putting the cursed Casket back down and leave and try to forgot the whole ordeal. But he couldn't. He was frozen.  
"Loki?" The soft voice startled him out of his paralysed state, sending his thoughts into a riot. He hadn't heard her coming into the Vault behind him, but her voice had alerted him to her presence and now he could hear her light footsteps, the soft rustling of the fabric of her gowns. Frigga. His... mother? _But was she?_ "Put that down, dear..."  
Automatically, he complied, the ancient relic returning to its place with a silent click. But it was too late now. He should have set it back down right away, he should never even have touched it, never sought it out...  
For now, he could see his blue arms, blue and foreign and _repulsive_ and so, so wrong, he could feel it all over him, and he didn't dare turn around and face her for fear of her seeing. Seeing the false skin, the monster he had just become without doing anything to call the beast forward. Still, he had to answer, and despite everything he managed to keep his voice calm and collected for the moment. "Am I cursed?"  
"No love... you're not..." The answer was bitter, distressing - it hurt. Eventually, he turned to see her standing just a few steps behind him, he saw her reaching out her hand to touch his shoulder but her arm sunk to her side again as their eyes locked. His features certainly were showing the desperate anger he felt blooming in his chest. He had hoped for denial - denial of what he was fearfully suspecting; but no, his wish hadn't been granted. _Surprise_. His hope for a simple magic spell was torn to tiny pieces.  
"It's just-" his mother's voice disturbed his gloomy thoughts, but he didn't let her speak, not yet.

"No?" he inquired, a sharp tone to his voice. "Then what am I?" He looked at her, coldly _oh so cold_ , betraying more ire than he had intended. His fists were clenching and unclenching nervously and he could swear he could _feel_ the red, vicious colour of his eyes was fading, now that the Casket wasn't in his touch any longer. He looked at his hands and the icy blue was washed away as if it was merely paint.  
A hand reached out to touch his and the hand was _warm_ and it eased the pain in his heart and the biting cold. And under his mother's touch, he felt a bit more like himself again, as she was stroking his skin that was no longer strangely blue.  
"You're my son, Loki..." He cringed at her words. It sounded like a _lie_. Was she _lying?_ "And I love you with all my heart." No, this was sincere. He knew it. She loved him. _She_ did.  
And still he couldn't help but flinch at her touch. It was a conscious effort not to pull back his hand out of instinct. He had seen what happened to the fair skin of an Aesir when touched by the blue of Jotunheim, a blue that was so cold that it burned and hurt. He never wanted to do that to her.  
But Frigga gently held his hand, and he kept still. "Your son," he repeated hoarsely, his heart beating painfully fast beneath his ribs. He wished it were the full answer. "But not – not really, am I?" Not really. Half a lie, half a truth, the way he usually liked it best. Most difficult to get behind. "What more than that am I?"  
When she softly tugged at his hand, he let himself be pulled away from the Casket, still searching her face. A tender expression was edged into her beautiful features, and Loki could hear her sigh quietly as she led him towards the stone stairs and carefully pushed him down into a sitting position before placing herself right next to him, never letting go of his arm.  
"Your father and I had hoped this day would never come..." Another weary sigh. "But as you have found parts of the truth on your own now... I cannot protect you from it any longer..." A sad smile that didn't completely reach her eyes twisted the corners of her mouth upwards. "When your father took the Casket from Jotunheim, he found a lonely infant, lying abandoned in a temple... you."  
Loki couldn't find it in himself to return her smile with one of his own. Not now, not after this, after she just crushed his world so thoroughly that he didn't think he could ever put it back together again. But he tried nonetheless, slowly shaking his head in instinctive, childish denial, without even noticing he was doing it. "No. No, that cannot... I... I cannot be -!" He trailed off helplessly. He had just seen that he _could_ indeed, that he _was_ , but he simply refused to accept it. "I'm not a... a Frost Giant! I'm not..." _...a monster.  
_ He saw the tears that Frigga couldn't prevent from welling up in her eyes, even if she held them back. "You were. But you're not – not anymore. Your father saved you and raised you as his own. You are our son now, Loki... And you will never be anything but that..." Her hand reached out for his cheek and she gently turned his head toward her, softly caressing his skin, hoping to comfort him.  
But he only flinched at her touch once more. One more time, before he closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean into it; barely noticeable. Shortly before he could feel the effects of his mother's embrace, he pulled free of it again.  
"But... but why?" He couldn't recall he had ever put more blank confusion into a question as simple as this before. "He... fath- Odin," _Not father_. And he hated him even more for it. "He had just waged war against the Jotuns, why would he take me, what good would it do?"  
He could make out a trace of not-knowingness in Frigga's face and knowing himself that he wouldn't get an answer, he went on to the next question. There were plenty of them.  
"And why... why did you not tell me? I... you could have told me..." His voice was suddenly sounding choked to his ears and he could feel his eyes were burning as he looked at Frigga - pleading for answers, for reassurance, by only casting a sad, sad look. And this sad, _sad_ look caused her to look down to her hands that were folded in her lap. Just for a moment, then she elaborated with a deep sigh, "We were keeping the truth from you so you would never feel different, never feel unlike any other young man on Asgard, never feel different from your brother..." He noticed her swallowing in a discreet manner. "We were doing our best to provide you a happy life... And I _do_ love you no less than your brother..."  
Something was clogging his throat, tightening it, stopping him from breathing in the air he needed. Loki curled in on himself ever so slightly, drawing away from Frigga a little bit in the process. "I have always been different though, have I not?" He twirled a strand of pitch black hair around his fingers while he spoke and looked at the sharp contrast of Frigga's light brown curls. "I was never... as the others. I was never as- as Odin expected of me, I was never l-like... Thor..."  
Thor, who was now banished to the Norns knew where exactly, who didn't know his brother wasn't his brother at all but instead a little Frost Giant posing as an Asgardian prince. Thor, who vowed to slay each and every Jotun in his path.  
Suddenly, Loki was terrified.

A hand found his head, stroking him, combing through his hair and stopping him from further twirling it around his fingers. "No, you aren't like Thor. But is that a bad thing? Every person is unique, and you wouldn't have to try and change who you are, just to be like your brother..." _Brother? Was he?_ "Not being like Thor does not make you any less precious... I have always loved you, and will always love you both equally..."  
And then she slipped towards him, closing the small gap left between them, to take him in her arms. Her thump brushed over his cheeks to catch the tears that suddenly were there, and Loki gasped, clinging to her as she held him, as if he were a small child again, scared of a noise he thought came from beneath his bed. "H-how... how can you love me that way w-when- when I am the opposite of what all of Asgard idolises? Even, even like this, as... as an Asgardian-" He stumbled over the word, and then swallowed thickly, having to fight for breath for a few seconds. "I'm not... like I should be..." A helpless laugh escaped him. Loki, the Liesmith, the Trickster, the coward who hid behind magic tricks and lies instead of fighting his battles as everyone else. "And the truth is even worse! Not only am I not – not of Asgard, but of... I... I am a _Frost Giant_ , I-I am the monster parents tell their children about at night!" His voice wanted to be raised, to scream out the truths as if he could chase them away like that, but he forced it into a broken sounding whisper. Nobody could hear, nobody could know, what if the guards were trying to eavesdrop -?  
But his _mother's_ hands that remained caressing his face and hair soothed his inner turmoil - even if only a little, little bit.  
"Ssssh." Her fingers glided through his smoothly slicked back strands. Her voice was soft and calm as she spoke, "I don't see any of that in you, Loki..." A pause, genuine eyes blinked at him. "I love you, because what you are is not what you are now. And even if it was, you are still my son and not a 'monster' in any way..." _No monster?_ "You must not dwell on the past now, dear - it is long forgotten... _this_ is your home now..."  
He swallowed his tears back down for one countless time more and for a moment he had to remain silent, to get his ragged breathing back under control. "Who... who knows it?"  
He couldn't keep himself from wondering. Did they tell _anyone?_ Surely the warriors who returned together with Odin couldn't have missed it. And also Heimdall, Heimdall certainly knew as well. It wouldn't have escaped his all-seeing amber eyes and perhaps it even explained why Loki had always felt like those amber eyes wanted to shoot daggers at him with their intense gaze.  
Frigga's sigh pulled him free of his thoughts once again.  
"Does it matter?" she asked. "It won't change anything..." She touched his cheek and he felt his skin tingle beneath her palm. "Because above everything, you are and you will stay our son, no matter who might know how you were brought into our family..."  
He bit his lip and lowered his head; her hand slipped from his cheek. She didn't understand - she was too _good_ to understand. Maybe, he thought, he could even believe her that _she_ loved him equally, for her words hadn't had the sound of a lie. But still, she didn't see that _she_ was the only one. She didn't see Heimdall's glares or Odin's disappointed and disapproving looks. She didn't hear half of Asgard whisper about their "Golden Prince" with pure admiration and their "Dark Prince" with distrust.  
He hastily wiped at his wet cheeks.  
"I just... I know not who I am anymore..." _If I even ever knew.  
_ Frigga's thumbs continued trailing the wet marks his tears had left on his cheeks, speaking softly, quietly, as one might to a frightened kitten in order not to scare it further. "You are Loki of Asgard. My son, Odin's son, Thor's brother and one of the rightful heirs to the throne. And it will always stay that way."  
She opened her arms again, held them out, silently asking him to let himself be enveloped in her loving embrace once more, trying to hide her distress at seeing her child in so much pain.  
Loki hesitated, but only for a heartbeat before accepting her embrace and returning into her arms. And suddenly, he lost what little control he had left over his emotions, and like a child, he lay in her arms, clinging to her like a lifeline and sobbing desperately into her shoulder. His tears soaked the fabric of her dress, but neither of them cared. She kept still, stayed there, and Loki was embarrassingly grateful as he felt her stroking his hair, his cheek, his chin, right down to tipping his nose before she trailed her hands over his quivering back and to his arms, gripping his fingers softly.  
"It's alright, Loki." She kissed his hairline, a feathery flutter of lips, her next words barely more than a whisper. "Do you wish to talk to me about anything else yet? Something that bothers you? I'm here, I'll listen..."  
For a long while, Loki was unable to respond to her promise. He was trembling uncontrollably in her arms, his slender frame wracked by sobs as he pressed close to her, as if he hoped she would just swallow him up and make him disappear, help him hide from the world forever. It took a few minutes until he could even speak again, and when he did, his words were muffled into the crook between her neck and shoulder because he was unable to pull away and look at her. His voice was hoarse and cracked from crying. "Fath- Odi- he... h-he doesn't really... really think that way, does he...?  
He felt how she put one hand to the back of his neck, burying her fingers in his hair and scratching softly behind his ear. "Your father loves you as much as I do, Loki..." she said, kissing his head. For a while, neither of them made a move but then Frigga put her arm to Loki's back and it rested there, the warmth easing the bleakness he felt inside of him.  
"It has always been difficult for your father to live up to you, to satisfy your needs..." she continued, "because your needs were unlike Thor's needs... He could not see through you as well as he could see through your brother..."  
He clamped down his eyelids, barely biting down another wave of tears. _My big brother isn't my big brother at all.  
_ "Of-f course he could not, I- I'm not his son..." It was difficult to speak through his tears and it was terrible to listen to himself as he was trying to force out his words through shaky sobs. "But Thor is and of course he u-understands him better and likes h-him better..." He could see his mother flinch. "He c-cannot love me like he does Thor, he cannot... have a - a Frost Giant on the throne..."

Deep, deep shuddering breaths. He was making a great effort to calm down and claim back his rationality. Finally he pulled back. And she let him go.  
"Your father does love you, Loki. We all do..." she repeated.  
As Loki got back to his feet, she remained sitting on the cold stone stairs. He turned to go, but before he eventually left the Vault, he turned to his mother one last time. And she smiled at him, sadly but tenderly.  
And he smiled back tightly and averts his gaze, looking anywhere but into her eyes. His fingers were fiddling with the edges of his sleeves.  
"I... just... if you-" he sighed, "if you just realize that, that maybe you can't... cannot love a monster after all, I'd... understand that and I-"  
Frigga cut him off then, her expression turning to something between horrified and worried as she hastily clambered to her feet and followed him to the door he was standing next to. "Loki... the Jotuns are not monsters. They are people as well as we are – just from another kind. They live in peace as much as we do, they have their families, their homes, their own land... just because they are different does not mean they are evil..."  
Her gaze was fixed on him with an earnest, almost stern look, and he just stared back at her for a long time, searching her eyes and expression for a lie. He dissected her words, looking for anything hidden between them, for anything that would prove that she didn't mean what she said, but he found nothing. Finally, he gave a hesitant nod, lowering his gaze. "I... I understand... I think." A small smile appeared on his face without reaching his eyes. "Thank you..."  
Frigga remained where she stood, watching him leave with a heavy sigh. "I love you, dear..."  
But the heavy doors had already closed behind him, and he hadn't heard her soft words anymore.


	2. You Deserve The Truth

**Chapter 2: You Deserve The Truth**

There was the humming of Jane's agitated voice while she was busily discussing a seemingly very important matter with Doctor Selvig. After a while, Thor was drowning out the meaning – he didn't understand a single word, no matter how much he tried – but kept listening to the sound of the voice; just the clear, bright voice. He sat apart on a stool, facing the makeshift kitchen, seemingly counting the crumbs the cornflakes had left in the muesli bowls and when he turned around, he could see Jane's tender hands gesturing around and rummaging through papers that were spread on this… thing that was obviously used as a bed."I know it, if this was not the origin of that storm, it must have been—" the pleasant humming of Jane's voice was cut off by a sharp knock. Her head shot up and she threw a quick glance at the door. "Did someone just-?" The knock was repeated, this time with a little more force, more irately than before.  
Thor stood up, nearly smashing the plates that were piling the shelves – there truly was too little space – to answer the door as he truly couldn't stand the constant knocking but Jane was faster.  
"Nono, I'll go, keep sitting!" she called out and hasted over – two steps to the left – to the door.  
As she eventually opened the door, she looked right into an unfamiliar face.  
"Uh... hi?" Thor shifted on his stool and leaned forward as far as he could but Jane was blocking his sight and he couldn't see who was standing outside the narrow door. He could only see a hand frozen in the air that had just been raised to impatiently knock a third time.  
"Good afternoon, fair Lady..." It was a voice he most certainly knew. And there in the doorframe stood a lanky figure – _Loki_. And he clearly forced himself to keep steady, not to fidget and as Thor stood up from his stool – careful not to bang his head on the ceiling –, he could see his brother's face who respectfully bowed his head in Jane's direction.  
"I am very sorry to interrupt your day, but –" he continued, "I was hoping to find someone and I was told he currently resides in this... place." Thor could clearly hear the disrelish in his brother's words. "Could you be so kind as to tell me if Thor is present?"  
Thor furrowed his forehead, too surprised to give a proper reaction. Jane, clearly, was equally confused, if not more so. Her stance appeared slightly defensive, obviously not quite trusting the stranger in the uncommonly decent suit who was all but towering over her, even though, of course, Thor was still taller than he. But before the scientist could figure out her reaction, Thor had found his voice. "Loki?"  
Jane turned around in surprise as Thor approached. "Oh... you – you know him?"  
Thor came to a halt behind her and looked at Loki, trying to decide whether to greet him with a smile or a worried expression. "Sure I do," he said absently. "He's my little brother..." Loki flinched at that, and Thor's tentative smile gave way to concern.  
Jane had by then stepped aside, uncertainly looking up and letting her gaze wander between the two of them. "Oh... well then... uh... come in... I guess?" Her eyes stilled on Thor, questioningly, and he gave her an improving nod, glad that she didn't appear angry at the intrusion that distracted her from her work

Loki hesitated for the fraction of a second before he stepped inside, looking about the narrow space warily. He felt inexplicably trapped inside the flimsy walls of this... he wasn't sure what it was, actually. Obviously, someone was living inside of it, but at the same time it appeared to be a means of transport, so he wasn't entirely certain. The sensation of being closed in only added up to the general uneasiness he felt at the prospect of meeting Thor like this.  
"My honest thanks, my lady," he finally addressed the woman who had opened the door. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Loki Od- of Asgard... may I inquire after your name?" He banned the slight slip of words from his mind as he watched a blush rise to her cheeks, as if he had somehow said something to abash her. After a second, she shrugged timidly and introduced herself as "Jane Foster". Since she ignored the slightly unkempt looking man who was watching them from something Loki assumed was a bed covered with notes, he decided to follow her example and kept his attention on her. "I came here to have words with Thor. I apologize for the intrusion, but... could you perhaps grant us a moment of privacy?" Preferably somewhere outside of this place.  
Actually, preferably not at all. Maybe she should just throw him out, and he would ignore that a mortal was in no position to give him orders and just leave, because he couldn't even bring himself to look at Thor, and if he stayed he'd have to do exactly that. Oh, this was a horrible idea, whatever had possessed him to come to Midgard like this?!  
Loki saw Jane Foster giving him a hesitant nod.  
"Uh... sure" she said "I guess you two better go... outside?" She gestured to the door. _Thank gods_. Thor looked at Jane and even though he seemed calm on the surface, his look made Jane's forehead crinkle with concern.  
"If it is fine with you, I'll hear what Loki will report... Will you excuse me?" Again this absent-minded nod, but heavier this time.  
"Just... go outside..." Her voice betrayed her insecurity.  
But she couldn't help it.  
 _Another strange man shows up, equally out of nowhere.  
He claims to be Thor's little brother.  
He is talking in the same old-fashioned overly polite manner.  
His fine suit seems oddly out of place in this shabby town.  
_But she just watched them disappear through the door with a slight shrug. Turning back to Selvig, she tugged a strand of brown hair behind her ear.  
"Uuuh... where were we...?"

As Loki followed his brother out on the roof, he was bound to notice the stiffness in his movements. Yet he was unable to relax his aching muscles and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat as if it was trying to suffocate him. He swallowed, his eyes twitching in search of a distraction. But he only spoke as Thor closed the door with a thud.  
"You have chosen a quite... interesting place to stay at..." _I can't stand it. Thank you very much._ "I am glad to see you well."  
And all of a sudden, Loki found himself enveloped in a quick hug, stiffening even more as a hand patted his back and made him gasp, nearly knocking him off his feet because Thor was too occupied with seeing him to notice his uneasiness.  
"Oh, you have no idea how glad _I_ am to see you here, brother!" But Thor's smile faded as soon as it had spread and his expression became worryingly. "Tell me, what brings you here? I hope you don't have any bad news?"  
Loki was glad that Thor at least didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable he felt, likely because he was too focused on his own surprise and concern about the fact that Loki was here at all. It bought him a little time, a few more minutes to collect his thoughts – other to get more nervous, which seemed exceedingly more likely.  
"Not quite, worry not... though your... departure has caused quite an uproar indeed." With a casual shrug, he stepped away from Thor, suddenly desperate to find a different topic and to distract any attention from what he had actually come here to speak of, and so he continued, mindlessly telling of what had occurred in the Thunder God's absence. "The Allfather has sunken into the Odinsleep shortly after... which means that, in the interval, the burden of the throne has fallen to me..."  
And a burden it was, especially now, with Asgard on the brink of war with Jotunheim, the Allfather not available for counsel, and the Golden Prince gone. No, he certainly didn't envy Thor in this regard, who would one day end up having to deal with things like this on a daily basis.  
Thor made to follow after his brother, his features pulled into an expression that seemed a mixture of horror, surprise, worry, and confusion. A few steps behind him, he paused, furrowing his brow. "What...? When- Why... why did this happen? I... brother, I... I don't know what to say. I'm... I'm sorry... I..." He trailed off helplessly, his gaze fixed on the ground below.  
Loki, meanwhile, was staring blankly ahead. "The stress, I presume... the Allmother said it was already expected to be coming, just not quite as soon as it did." His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and he was breathing deeply, concentrated, through his nose.  
He could feel the desert sun burning down on him with more intensity than even Asgard's sun, and the heat just reminded him that now he knew why Thor had always liked the sunny weather so much better than he.

Thor lifted his head, looking right at the back of his brother's, seeing his dark hair dance in a soft breeze that was easing the heat of the desert sun. He opened his mouth. He closed it. He opened it again. It was the silent voice of confusion.  
"Allmother?" It was so distant. So full of respect.  
Loki's breath quickened. Thor had never been good at noticing things, he had never been one to find a peculiarity in words. And Loki had never been the transparent type, he had always been good at hiding his emotions, his inner turmoils. And no matter, how close Thor had looked, he could never find anything odd about the way his brother acted away his pains and sorrows. So, Loki hadn't expected Thor to pick up on the detail. And regardless of how adept he was with twisting lies, he just couldn't call her "mother". Not anymore. Not when he was that undeserving of calling her that. Just as he was undeserving of calling Thor "brother".  
"Thor…" his voice felt strangely rough. "I came here for a reason. I did not merely wish to tell you of Asgard's faring." But the words were stuck in his throat and he trailed off. He was frozen in place despite the heat. He was unable to turn around, cold and stiff like an ice statue and although he knew he was breathing it felt like the very air was trying to strangle him. He buried his trembling hands in the pockets of his elegant black trousers, his body tensed and straight.  
And normally, Thor wouldn't notice but in the human world he had learned a few things. He had seen how burying one's hands in the deep pockets of those strange trousers was a way of concealing nervousness. And this was just so unlike his little brother that he couldn't help but notice. He took another careful step until they were standing right next to each other their eyes observing the distance, still not looking at each other.  
"So, what is it that brought you here?" Thor asked and as _he was_ mostly transparent to his brother, he wasn't able to keep his voice from sounding concerned.  
Loki let out a breath that shuddered and didn't want to leave his lungs. He could feel Thor next to him, saw him in the periphery of his vision, and this concerned tone of his voice sent daggers through his heart. It was a conscious effort not to flinch at it. Loki suddenly felt like he stood at the edge of an abyss and his next words might cause Thor to throw him into it without a second thought. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to see it coming.  
"I have... learned something, in the short time of your absence. Something about myself, but it affects you just as well, and I... I thought... you deserve to know." The corners of his mouth twitched, something that wouldn't have happened if Loki had been about to tell a lie. It were the unknown grounds of honesty that seemed to frighten him. Loki was indeed more familiar with insincerity than truthfulness – but now, there actually was a single truth he was not able to keep from Thor. And in these dark grounds of awareness, he had missed Thor taking a step to the side and he gave a jerk as he put one hand to his shoulder and turned him around to look at him, to see more traces of pure, unfamiliar, cursed honesty of which he wasn't even sure if it looked convincing.  
"If it truly is your wish to tell me, I'll listen well to what you have to say..." Thor's words were soft as if he was afraid Loki might change his mind about telling the truth.  
He tensed to the point where his muscles almost hurt, Thor's hand felt foreign and wrong on his shoulder despite the familiarity of the gesture. He didn't shake it off though; it would disappear soon enough anyway. His eyes were glued to a point in the distance, somewhere above Thor's shoulder, as Loki tried to utter the words he had mulled over for hours before he had come to Midgard to seek out Thor which now seemed all lost, for not a single one would come to mind. He glanced at the usually beaming face and saw worry and confusion, and he felt sick.  
"I'm not your brother," he blurted out, because he had no words to soften the blow and because he needed to get them up before he lost the last shrivels of courage and either ran away or just started throwing up. "I never was." His voice was choked, and his head seemed to have gained an unimaginable weight during the last minutes, because he was incapable of lifting it.

And there Thor was, staring at Loki with something more than just confusion and concern combined and his jaw was tempted to just drop open embarrassingly; he struggled to keep himself in check. A weak smile pulled at the corners of Thor's mouth. Of course, he didn't understand so he tried to cover it all with humour and his expression changed into something silently inquiring _Are you kidding me?_.  
"What are you talking about?" Thor asked, his voice broken by desperate laughs – perhaps even laughs hoping to hear this was all just a joke or a misunderstanding. "Sure you are..." he added, unsure of how to take Loki's confession.  
And Loki merely felt a cold anger blooming in his chest, the sensation spreading outwards at Thor's words, who didn't take him seriously, who thought he was joking, who didn't want to accept what Loki was telling him even now when he had only told the most basic part of the disaster.  
"I'm not," he snapped, unable to help himself as he glared up at Thor while he still felt his throat closing up, tightening until he had to force out every word and every breath. His head was throbbing, from the heat, from the effort of controlling tears and screams and panic attacks, from the frustration of Thor not _listening_.  
"I'm not. Moth- Frigga told me. I... I am no child of her, I am no child of Odin. I am not your brother. I just... thought you should know."  
He couldn't say more, couldn't spill the whole horrible truth just yet, when already those few words were suffocating him and making him feel dizzy.  
"That means... we're not from the same family..." Thor translated Loki's words. But before Loki could answer, he said, "but... that doesn't mean you're not my brother... just because we don't have the same blood running through our veins... We still grew up together." Thor shook his head. "I don't believe this…"  
Loki laughed, cold and sharp, because _of course_ Thor would react that way. Of course he wouldn't even really think about what he had heard, of course he would choose to instantly disregard Loki's words, not believing them, not caring about them because thinking about them would mean to change his way of thinking, the way he viewed the universe, and Thor was mostly quite set in his ways and if in any way possible, he would twist reality in his eyes until he could keep behaving like he always had and stay clueless, and Loki had to laugh because if he didn't, he'd sob.  
"Oh, you should believe it. It is quite true, in the truest way possible. I could not be farther from being your brother if I tried." His eyes were burning, and he pretended he didn't notice, didn't know why they hurt so much, why his heart was hurting when it beat and his lungs were hurting with every breath. "You should accept it now, maybe then the blow of the truth will be less harsh and you will be able to make your decision faster and with less emotional conflict involved."  
But Thor just sighed and looked at his brother – not his brother – but then his _brother_ again. Long, intense, sad. Loki's eyes were framed red with the heralds of tears but he was fighting them back, chewing at the inside of his lip.  
"What decision do you expect of me?" he asked, truly unaware of what Loki was waiting for. "Do you expect I would now banish you from our family forever and never speak a word to you again? Firstly, banishing you would not be up to me, for I am the one who has been banished – not you. And secondly, if you really think I would, then you really don't know me very well..." He took a step towards Loki, reaching out to touch him. And then it seemed Thor decided that this was a good moment for a hug and he gently put his arms around his brother – _yes_ – who was stiffening in his touch.  
"It's alright, Loki... you'll always be my brother, no matter what... Still, thank you for being honest... Thank you very much..."

Loki heavily shook his head and desperately pushed against Thor's towering form until he noticed and pulled away, and Loki stumbled backwards a few steps.  
"No," he mumbled, and then repeated it with a louder voice. "No. No, you do not understand, you know not what you speak... this is not everything yet, there is more—" He turned away, panting slightly, his throat narrow and burning and breaking his voice. He wrapped his arms around himself and hoped that Thor wouldn't come after him, wouldn't come closer, wouldn't attempt to hug him again because it _hurt_ and he felt sick and if Thor touched him now he would break apart.  
"I am... I am not of Asgard. I am not part of your family, I am not even part of your race! I... I am... oh, gods, I cannot, you will- you—" His blood rushed loudly in his ears, and suddenly he felt light-headed. His hands twitched, instinctively looking for something to hold on to, but there was nothing but him and Thor and he had to keep still. He had never let himself cry or shown even the slightest sign of weakness and now here he was, his lip quivering, his silhouette shaking and his hands searching for a halt that was not Thor.  
"I promise, I won't hurt you, I won't be angry – or whatever it is you fear me to do..." Thor simply said, trying to keep his voice even.  
"What more is there...?"  
"What more... what more is there..." Loki was helpless. He was trying so hard to hide his emotional state as he would usually do, but he knew he was failing horribly for once, he knew that even Thor could see through the thin facade he could maintain, and the fact only riled him up even more, a vicious circle he couldn't escape from, he could only make it worse. But he didn't want to break down, not on front of his once-brother who had together with his friends laughed at Loki and teased for showing weakness in the past, not like he had in front of Frigga. If Thor chose to end him right on the spot for being a monster, it was the least he could do not to die crying like a pathetic child. He saw and heard the genuine worry in Thor, but all he could think of was the hate and disgust he would have to face when the truth was out, and he didn't know how to take it. Not from Thor, not from the one who had been his brother for centuries, the one he still admired and looked up to in a way despite everything that had happened.  
But Thor had been his brother, and he deserved this one truth from Loki.  
"I am of a different realm entirely," he began haltingly, quietly. "It is different than with Hogun. I... I am not of Vanaheim, or even Alfheim or... I..." He took a breath, almost choking on his next words. "Thor, I am... I am of Jotunheim." Gods, he felt sick. His voice went so quiet that it wasn't even a full whisper anymore. "I am a Frost Giant. A monster."

Now, this was what pure horror looked like. It seemed to be written in bold letters all over Thor's face, leaving no space for anything else than just that – horror. And this one, big HORROR was blocking Loki's throat and Thor knew even less what to say, he just stared. His fists clenched out of his own doing and he faced the ground and found his own lip was trembling as well.  
"A... what?" Thor swallowed. "I... I don't know... what to say..." It seemed he was lost in thoughts for a moment – lost in thoughts he then decided to voice, "But... it cannot be... you possess none of the necessary features... and you don't... you don't have their skin colour... this is just impossible!" He wasn't able to banish his horror from his voice – but even if he were, it would still clearly be written all over his face. A snort escaped Loki's lips at Thor's desperate attempt to prove him wrong. Did he really think that Loki would joke about a thing like this? It was like they were young again and one of them would pretend to be dead, the other then tickling him or telling jokes to get him to laugh, to get a reaction, to prove he was still alive and undo the "death". But this, this could not be undone, this would stay in both of their minds forever. Loki felt his heart ache at this. He had just willingly destroyed the last remnants of the bond he had shared with Thor, he just knew it. There was no going back, and Thor knew it just as well as he did, he just refused to accept it yet. He was in denial.  
"It is not." He stared ahead blankly, his voice monotonous, hopeless. "I tell the truth, surprising as it may be." He bit his lip. He could show Thor, he knew. He had tried it out, on the privacy of his sleeping chambers, hiding even from Heimdall's sight even though Odin had told him the Gatekeeper knew. But he wouldn't let Heimdall witness his tears, his desperation, as he willed his skin to turn blue, his eyes to turn red. But he knew he could do it, now that he was aware of his Aesir skin being a mere facade.  
He turned back, not looking at his former brother for fear of what he might see. Without another word, Loki forced himself to calm down enough to concentrate, and kept his head up as he felt himself change, gaze cast away so he wouldn't have to see. He felt it spreading rapidly, like an inexorable disease, and he knew what Thor would see. Sickeningly blue skin, with dark markings lining his face (and probably more of his body, beneath the clothes, but he hadn't cared to look), and red, red eyes, gleaming lethally and dead and, despite their colour, _cold_ at him, the eyes of a monster. And immediately, he felt sweat gather on his brow from the harsh desert sun that almost seemed to burn his icy skin, his breathing growing laboured from more than just the effort of holding back tears.  
"Now you see me, _brother_ ," he whispered, voice cracking.  
And Thor shook his head, unsure if he had just really _seen_ this or if his eyes were playing cruel tricks on him. He looked like he might think this to be a nightmare; the Frost Giants were hunting him down to Midgard, were intruding in his mind, were taking away his little brother by turning him into a monster. But then he seemed to realise that this felt too real to be a nightmare. So as it all seemed to be actually _happening_ , for Thor, there could just be one possible explanation.  
"Loki, stop..." he gasped with terror. "No more illusions..."  
He let it fade when the heat was getting overbearing, changed back to the form he had worn all his life and that was so much more familiar to him than his true skin. "You think it an illusion?" he whispered.  
"You think I would find it amusing, to trick you into thinking me one of the creatures which's kind you promised to slay entirely, should the opportunity arise? You truly think me that mad?" He didn't know what to do. His knees felt weak, like they would give way beneath him any second, yet he willed himself to stand strong. He could understand Thor's confusion, his attempt to wave this off as just another one of his little brother's prank. He wished himself it was just a prank. But Odin had no sense of humour whatsoever, and Frigga, he knew, would never hurt him that way for fun. It was the truth, the truth about the Liesmith who for so long hadn't seen through the biggest lie he ever was told.  
"No..." Thor shook his head. It was all he could say. He took another step back, confused, horrified, sad, unsure of what to do and even more unsure of what to say. _What do you say to a person who had thought himself to be your brother for his and your own entire life and now not only proves to be not your relative but a cold monster?_ Surely this was what he was pondering. "I'm sorry, Loki..." It wasn't helpful, it wasn't soothing there was just blackness and pain and cold. Oh, so much cold. _Sorry._ What was Thor sorry for? It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault that Loki was a Frost Giant, it wasn't his fault that Odin had taken him in, it wasn't his fault that Odin and Frigga had lied for all this time. It wasn't his fault that he found himself unable to love a monster. Loki understood.  
But that didn't mean it hurt any less.

Loki could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and blinked rapidly to chase them away. _Don't cry. Don't be weak now._ _You knew it would be like this, you were prepared, don't you dare cry now. At least he didn't try to kill you. (Maybe he should have.)  
_ He swallowed. "I will take my leave, then." He had to force the words around the swollen lump in his throat that felt suspiciously like his heart. Jagged, broken, and all but overflowing with tears. "See to it that you return soon. You cannot leave Asgard in a Jotun's hands for too long."

He returned to the desert a distance away, concentrating on each step and each breath at once. _Breathe. Breathing. Nothing else, there's nothing else to think about. Keep yourself together, just... just until you're back. Until you can hide.  
_ "Heimdall," he muttered, knowing he would be heard. "Open the Bifröst."

 _See to it that you return soon. You cannot leave Asgard in a Jotun's hands for too long._ It had been his brother's goodbye, for once and for all. His brother wasn't the Loki he had known anymore. Something had snapped, something made him say he was a "Jotun", which he clearly was and clearly wasn't. He all but had to watch him leave, he didn't even quite notice. He just stood there stuttering and mumbling, clenching and unclenching his fists. Frozen as the idiot he was. But then, suddenly he was able to move again, it was like he had been tazered again. His limbs remembered how to stretch and tense and he could see and hear again over the hurt that had occupied his whole body.  
"Loki!" he shouted, "Brother, please come back!"  
As the door of the "temporary living situation" suddenly opened, he found Jane looking at him. Thor sunk to the floor, burying his head in his hands. It was too late.  
"Has... he left...?" Jane asked.  
"Where you two fighting out there?" Doctor Selvig interfered.  
But Thor just groaned. "He's gone..." he murmured, his heart felt like it was about to bleed out.  
"What happened?" Jane asked, tender-hearted as she was, but Thor just shook his head.

He should storm after him, he should try to find him, should try to tell him what he was sorry for, should ponder the question whether this changed anything or not. His brother had been a Frost Giant all this time. But had he ever cared? There were still all those lovely memories, all those perfect moments they had shared. Of course they had had their little arguments – but that's just what brothers did, right? He felt like his world had shattered and he knew, Loki very likely shared that feeling. But could Loki be the key he needed to get to peace with Jotunheim? Could he teach him that Jotuns weren't the monsters he always thought them to be? He needed to rest. Now. And he also needed to put this thought aside for some time. Maybe the answer would come. One day. He certainly had time.


	3. Teddy Bear

**Chapter 3: Teddy Bear**

It was _wrong to be so horrified. He was still his brother, he had never caused anything worse than a little chaos and – just_ no _. He couldn't be one of those monsters. Why would his father raise a monster as his own, why would he even grant a_ monster _access to Asgard? Loki was not a monster – not like that. Thor remembered how he had often playfully called Loki a "little monster" and he gasped as he found that the words just grew a new, much more terrifying meaning. It had to be an illusion. And oh, how truly_ real _Loki's illusions could look. He could easily make the floor look like it had been flooded or he could make a good apple start moulding at the slightest touch. But this... this was different. It wasn't a nightmare though – or he would have woken up and found he had thrown away his blanket at some point.  
And even if it felt like a punch in Thor's very heart, it explained everything. It answered questions Thor hadn't even been asking because he had accepted it as a part of how things were but now... now he thought of his brother's pitch black hair, his lanky frame, his green eyes, his pale skin – and he knew why he had always seemed, always _been _so different.  
It was difficult to see, that the person who had slept in the same bedroom with you for years and years of happy childhood, the person who had gotten you in and out of trouble, the person you had been laughing and fighting and playing and training with, the person you had spent the majority of your days with, the person you had thought to be your _relative _now wasn't – not_ really _. But really or not, what did it matter? Thor could – he knew it now – he could never see Loki as anyone but his little brother. It seemed so odd, so strange, so_ wrong _to think that he wasn't... Because whenever he saw Loki, his brain seemed to put a tag on him, saying "brother", he could almost read it, as he kept imagining Loki's face._ This is my brother.

 _But what did it change, what did it do? Did it make Loki a different person? Did it explain his love for pranks and chaos? Did it make this passion a bad sign? Did it make him evil? Or could Thor still see that he wasn't evil, despite his origin, despite his natural form? He couldn't believe he had been fooled by a Frost Giant for so long, he couldn't believe his father had done this to him... and to Loki if he was to be believed that he only just found out himself._

It hadn't seemed like a lie though. And Loki's shiny eyes had only caused Thor to hug him and then he had felt helpless because obviously, Loki hadn't wanted to be touched but all Thor had wanted and all he could do was touch and comfort, for he had always been more of a physical type and he didn't know what to say to someone who seemed so close to an emotional breakdown even though Loki was the last person he would have expected a breakdown from. No, Thor shouldn't think his whole life had been a lie, just one of Loki's pranks... it was up to his brother to think that.  
No, it didn't change anything.

It didn't.

He remembered a lightning and a hammer. And the hammer had been held high over his head and the lightnings had been flashing around his head like a pounding tiara. Thor had regained his powers by merely twisting his words and vows. While he had promised to hunt the monsters of Jotunheim when he had been banished and turned into a helpless human, he had now sworn the opposite to be able to lift his hammer again. He had realised that the Jotuns weren't the monsters he had entitled them to be - because his little brother was one of them and he _still_ loved him. And because losing him would have hurt him more than getting his heart ripped out of his core by a Frost Giant and getting it frozen when he could still feel its beat in the monster's claw - it kind of would have come close to that feeling.  
For now it was good to be home, although Thor missed his Midgardian companions. Especially Jane, who had kissed him Goodbye and in return, he had promised her to be back soon. But at first, he had to look after Loki, had to make sure that he was fine again.

Asgard was still at peace when he arrived, although the sounds and colours of a bleak silence seemed to have fallen over the once so glorious hills, fields and monuments. The rainbow bridge appeared a strange shade of black and white when he passed it. And his father was still resting as he was told by Heimdall. That meant, Loki was still sitting on the throne. And that meant, as he concluded, that he was either rejoicing in his glory or drowning in gloom for he was not able to carry the burdens the throne had brought with it - or the thrill of finding the truth about his parentage.  
He wondered and wandered about the palace and as he finally entered the throne room, he found the throne empty. No surprise. Night had long fallen over Asgard, although the stars seemed a little less bright than usual. Thor looked at the throne and as he looked closer, he found that Loki's golden helmet was placed there in his stead, keeping his place, reflecting the shadows around it and giving the impression that nothing in this room went unnoticed by its owner. Thor smiled and turned to go. His boots clattered above the freshly polished stone floor as he walked to his room to rest. He didn't want to bother anyone at that late an hour.  
But as he pushed open the door of his room, he discovered his bed was already taken. A dark-haired head was buried in his pillows, a sharp face nestled down in his blankets.  
"Brother?"

Loki had barely been able to endure this day. With every day he sat on Asgard's throne, the mumbling among the citizens got louder and more discontent. They obviously thought him blind and deaf, or they simply didn't care whether or not he stayed ignorant of their opinions. Sif regarded him with open contempt for not ending Thor's banishment as soon as he had the chance, when he had even visited Midgard himself. The Warriors Three were less forthcoming with their disapproval, but Fandral seemed to be glaring more than flirting nowadays, and Hogun seemed to look even grimmer than usual. There were mutters that Odin hadn't been in his right mind when he banished his firstborn, who should sit on the throne in Loki's stead, or maybe the Allmother should have taken matters in her hands, for surely she would be more suited than the Dark Prince, the Liesmith.  
Nobody but Frigga mentioned that he actually was a _good_ king, and Loki wasn't sure he believed her. He had a hard time believing any word she said, of late. And wasn't it treason, to hand the throne over to a Frost Giant?  
It felt wrong. The throne felt wrong when he sat on it, dwarfing him, making him feel smaller than ever, Gungnir felt wrong in his hands, wrong and dangerous and undeserved. Even his familiar helmet felt heavy and out of place, now that he had to wear it almost constantly.  
Loki could barely stand it, and he had to face all of it as good as alone. Odin still slept, and Frigga was worried over him, Loki could see how hesitant she was to leave her husband's side. Loki told her she should stay, that he was alright, that it wasn't too hard, he could manage. The Allfather was more important.  
But he lied. _What a surprise, wasn't it?_ He wasn't alright, and he just barely managed to stand through the days, keeping up appearances. He could not be seen as weak, now less than ever.  
But it had only been days since he had found out the truth, and even less time since he told Thor, and Odin slept and Frigga worried and _Thor still wasn't back_ and he didn't know what to think anymore. Would Thor return? What would he do, if he did? Loki knew they couldn't just go back. He wouldn't get his brother back, just like that. It wasn't possible. But oh, how he missed him.

For days now he teetered on the edge of an emotional breakdown. He barely ate, he slept even less, tossing and turning and blankly staring at the ceiling at night while hiding from Heimdall's watchful gaze, replacing himself with an illusion. Over the days, he hid his red-rimmed eyes with a glamour and constantly flinched, staring at his hands, because he could swear they started to turn blue.  
On this evening, he had given in. He couldn't talk with anyone, no matter how desperately he wished not to be alone anymore, but... Thor still resided on Midgard. His chambers were vacant. He could at least pretend.  
Leaving an illusion in his own bed, he hasted to the rooms he knew almost as well as his own, even though he hadn't been here often during the last decades. But now, he was exhausted, and he could feel tears flowing down his cheeks without his permission, and not bothering to remove his clothes, he crawled into the huge bed, beneath the covers that still smelled so much like _Thor_ , buried his head in the pillows, and cried.

 _Something startled him back into consciousness, though when he became aware of his surroundings again he didn't know what had woken him in the first place. Only that he must have fallen asleep at some point, for otherwise he would not be waking now. He could still feel the wetness of tears on his cheeks.  
As he moved slowly, reluctantly, to sit up and dry his face, he found that he was surrounded by complete darkness. The candles that had previously been burning must have gone out. Perhaps a servant had come in and, upon finding the prince – no, _king _–_ _sleeping in his brother's –_ not his brother's _–_ _chambers, had extinguished the lights and drawn the curtains close so he might rest more easily. Loki wiped the tears away, hoping that he would be able to keep the new ones already lurking behind his lids at bay, and feeling mortification bloom in his chest at the thought of a servant having seen him in a state like this.  
...why had he not woken, then? He could not have been sleeping long yet, and he had ever been a light sleeper. A servant entering, no doubt expecting to find the room vacant and thus not overly careful to be quiet, should never have slipped past his attention.  
Loki felt his muscles tense. He blinked, twice, to make sure his eyes were indeed open, but the darkness was absolute, unchanging, and his tired mind was starting to paint fiery patterns in front of his eyes, unable to cope with the complete lack of visual stimulation. He couldn't _see _. He couldn't see, nothing but black, dark nothingness, and Asgard's nights were never this dark. No matter if the candles were gone, no matter if the curtains were closed as tightly as possible – as long as you weren't in the levels of the palace that were below ground, the dungeons, where there were no windows, there was always light. Always. The numerous stars of the night sky squeezed their lights through every crack and every scratch. Thor's chambers weren't supposed to be dark.  
There was a sound, a thumping, rushing noise, and Loki realised it was his heart, pumping blood through his body at a frenzied, panicked pace, and suddenly he couldn't stand the darkness anymore. He gestured in the air, invisibly to his eyes, concentrating on the power within him, directing it to the candles in his desire for light, for vision.  
There was no reaction. No flame suddenly lighting up in a distance, no small light that would allow him to see his surroundings, and Loki's movements grew frantic, almost desperate. He needed _light _, he needed to see, he needed...  
The blackness appeared to be closing in on him, and for the first time in his life, as far as he could remember, he had the notion that there might be different kinds of darkness, different kinds of black, of... of nothing. There was a kind that was his friend, his companion – the shadows he could hide himself in, which he could twist and bend until they would let him disappear between them and spit something out in his stead, illusions with which he might trick others into believing things that were not there. There was friendly darkness, there was a comforting kind of darkness, there was a kind of darkness he was wary of, when he didn't know if there might be an enemy hidden in it on the battlefield – and there was this new kind of darkness he found himself surrounded by now. And his own shallow, short breaths didn't seem to be the only ones he heard. Where were – the candles, he needed –  
"They will not light." He froze, his hand hanging in the air in front of his face as if he had forgotten he put it there, since he could not see where it was. Someone – someone had whispered to him, in this dark room. Someone had known – seen? - that he was trying to light the candles, and whispered to him of the impossibility of the attempt. Someone was here, with him.  
He slowly withdrew his hand, pulling it close to his chest. "Who is there?"  
"They will not light," the voice repeated, whispery and obscure, and Loki's breath hitched as he realised where the sound came from. _Someone was under the bed. Someone was lying beneath Thor's bed, how had he not noticed, how had he not seen –  
 _"_ _You do not need them," came another voice – or was it the same, just from a different location? For this time he heard it not from underneath him, but from the opposite side of the room, where he knew the door to the adjacent bathing chamber to be. Loki screwed his eyes shut, but it made no difference and he opened them again, trying to glance around, to see who would dare to mock him so, to repress his magic, to try and frighten him –  
"You need only us!" He swallowed back a cry. This time the voice came from the foot of the bed, from the direction of Thor's wardrobe, and now Loki could see, but he wished he couldn't, he did not understand why he would ever have wished to see. Two eyes, two red, red eyes, staring at him from across the room, glowing in the dark. Bright. But other than a candle would, these eyes illuminated nothing but their own existence, still keeping the room in darkness, breathing, _living _darkness, threatening to swallow him whole, to keep him here forever, surrounded by nothing but these cold, red eyes to keep him company.  
Red eyes staring at him, hungrily, from the wardrobe. Then the sound of a door, a quiet screak, and a second pair flared to life. "Come, little Princeling," the eyes whispered, and their voices came as one, from the wardrobe, from under the bed, from everywhere. He stared at them, unable to avert his eyes, unable to even close them to blink, and they started to tear up and his vision swam, multiplying the hungry red orbs until there were multitudes of them floating in the air, surrounding him, coexisting with the darkness and threatening him just the same.  
_Come, King of Lies, little Princeling, little monster... _And to his horror, Loki found his body obeying. His hands threw off the covers, his legs swung over the edge of the bed on their own, and Loki gasped and struggled and fought for control, but to no avail. He moved towards the voices, his body deciding it belonged with them as his mind screamed silently at him to flee. He couldn't. He_ couldn't.  
You never were supposed to be here. _He wasn't. He shouldn't be._ You are a liar, Princeling. You lied before you even knew what lying was. _He did not belong here. He belonged... with them. Become one of them, one of the voices. Red, hungry eyes, whispering. He had almost reached the wardrobe._ Join us. _Red, glowing eyes, flowing directly in front of his own._ See us. See what we are. See what you are. _His hand raised itself stretching forward, and it met a cool, smooth surface. Glass._ Monster.  
 _And Loki saw. He saw his hand touching the mirror, and he saw the mirror image's hand touch his own, the monster in the mirror with its red eyes, its blue skin, and Loki's face and Loki's clothes and Loki's body, smirking at him hungrily through the glass, and Loki screamed._

Yes, it truly was him, for he was the only member of the family who possessed those emerald eyes that were now tiredly blinking up on him, not yet seeing him. Thor's joy was overflowing even though the desperation in Loki's face wasn't well-hidden. He cupped his brother's cheek in one of his big hands.  
"It's so good to see you..." He didn't say _well_ , for Loki looked everything but. And he didn't ask him what he was doing in his room because he had an idea of what he might have been trying to find here.  
"Th-Thor?" He stared back, wide-eyed and panting slightly. "What... you... you have returned...?"  
 _Have you been crying?_ It was the next question that came to Thor's mind, but he didn't voice it. He knew, Loki wouldn't admit it, even though Thor could still see and feel the leftovers of tears on his cheeks. _How are you?_ No, it sounded insincere. It was the basic question of every ordinary conversation and most of the time, people didn't ask because they wanted to know but because they didn't know what else to say.  
It took a few long moments for Loki's exhausted brain to catch up with him and figure out what exactly was happening, why he was awake again and why the room was not a familiar one to wake up to. He then recoiled, scrambling backwards almost in a panic and tangling his limbs in the bedsheets in the process.  
His heart was racing beneath his ribs. He was in no state to defend himself should Thor have decided to strike at him, not now, sleep-deprived and exhausted, having just awoken from what little rest he could get – if one counted a nightmare as resting.  
But Thor just reached out his hands in a comforting gesture. "Yes, indeed I have... I am sorry to wake you, brother but I must admit I did not expect to find you here..."

 _Of course you didn't expect to see me here, you didn't expect to see me ever again probably, you didn't WANT to see me here or anywhere else, did you?_ Tears that had still been lurking close anyway sprang to Loki's eyes once more, unbidden, and he lowered his head to hide them. _Don't be weak, don't be weak now._ He didn't know what to make of Thor's tone of voice, but even if it didn't sound like he would raise Mjölnir against him, his words made it quite clear that Loki was unwanted here.  
"Forgive me," he mumbled, and wasn't it funny that he was a king now and begging forgiveness of one who by all rights was his subject? "I did not know of your return today. I sh-shall take my leave so you may rest."  
He started untangling himself from the blankets, still looking downwards. The tears had already spilled over, and even Thor was bound to notice the tremor in his hands. He shouldn't have come here, but he was so _tired_.  
Again Thor reached out his hands - as if to wrap the blanket around Loki again, as if hoping he could ease this certain tremor. "No, no... it's fine... Stay here..." They could pretend to be children again, not knowing terrible secrets, not caring about differences, trying to chase away the shadows of a nightmare. They could snuggle up to each other and warm each other and forget about everything that was driving a wedge into their relationship. They could be there for each other. And as Thor took in Loki's ailing expression, he found that his brother now needed him more than ever and that this was indeed the right time to be there for him, even though he hadn't been there for him for a much longer time. It didn't matter now.  
"What's... what's wrong?" he asked helplessly and slid closer, lifting one arm to put it around Loki's slim shoulders, but his brother flinched.  
There was a crash and a cold light split the night sky as the clouds suddenly started to pour rain over Asgard. And the droplets running down the glass windows looked like tears. The pale stars were crying. And so was Loki. Thor noticed and finally he hugged him carefully.  
"It's alright, Loki... I'm here... and I'll never leave you here ever again..." And he truly was determined to keep this promise - in case Loki was willing to accept it as such. But Loki's instincts were screaming at him to move, to act, but they were screaming more than one thing and one side was contradicting the other, demanding he get off the bed and run, escape Thor, escape this dreadful situation and this realm and all the _lies_ , and at the same time demanding he give in, surrender to Thor's arms that were circling around him hesitantly, and just hold on to him and believe that everything could ever be well again. And because he didn't know what to do, because he still was terrified and desperate and exhausted, he just hung limply in Thor's arms, between yelling at him in fury and clinging to him in need.  
"You... you came back," he mumbled after a few moments, pathetically, as if he couldn't quite believe it. "You... you don't..." _You don't hate me._ He couldn't voice it, not when he still didn't know, when it could still be a trick, a lie, but this didn't seem like hate, even though Loki couldn't understand how it could be anything else.  
"I don't hate you, no..." Thor finished the sentence. He didn't know why, but some yet undiscovered part in his brain told him that this was what Loki had been fearing all along. Suddenly, there was sympathy welling up from the depths of his heart, a feeling he hadn't been familiar with for ages. And suddenly he noticed things because he looked. He kept Loki in his arms, because he sensed that this was what he longed for, but he didn't encage him for he also sensed that he wasn't all comfortable. He hadn't known that there was so much sentiment in this big, strong body of his and in this heart that had long long time only beat for battle. Finally he let go, and as Loki suppressed a sob, he put one hand to his face to catch a tear.  
"And I'm here to help you, _brother_..." He took his shoulders and looked into his face, attempting a smile to cheer him up. "It's alright now..."  
 _No. No, it's not._ Because Thor being back and there now and not hating him made it better, yes, it helped a little in soothing the pain and anxiety, but it didn't make it alright. Loki was still a Jotun, his entire life was still a lie, and even Thor couldn't make it alright in just a few minutes, but it was so like him to think that it was that easy.  
"Alright?" Loki's voice sounded brittle, not quite breaking but like shards of glass, smooth on the surface but with sharp edges that cut the one who spoke as much as the audience. "It... it is not alright, Thor. Nothing is." He felt fury raising its head, and he concentrated on it because it felt so much better than the anguish and despair of the last few days, even though he knew those would be returning soon enough. For now he would let himself have a little break and be angry, because wasn't it all _Thor's_ fault, in a way?  
"You," he snarled, silently rejoicing in the way Thor drew backwards in confusion and alarm, "you are a moron, Thor. You just left and went on a holiday on Midgard and _left me here to deal with everything on my own_ with father conveniently asleep so I get the throne you were supposed to have, and I don't even know what to DO with the darn thing, never mind the fact that my life just broke apart after a completely unnecessary visit to Jotunheim which you dragged me along on against my will!" He was panting and barely noticed the tears still running down his cheeks as he pounded his fists against his flabbergasted looking brother's chest. "And now you think you come back and that makes everything _alright?!_ You... you mule-headed... you couldn't even let me know if you want to kill me or not when I came to Midgard...!"  
 _What?_ "What?" It came out louder than he had intended and it brought back the HORROR on his face. Well, maybe not quite HORROR, but horror and shock and confusion; eyes wide, agape and probably staring.  
"Now... you... you don't go blame me for everything... I... could I know you're-" he didn't quite know what to say, so he went over to something else instead. "I thought you _wanted_ the throne! I thought the throne was what you always envied me for! Now you got what you wanted, shouldn't you be proud and - and... _satisfied?_ "  
He jumped up from the bed and suddenly it was ridiculous that he imagined Loki and him lying there cuddling only a few minutes ago. They were no _children_ anymore. No nightmare could end that easily. _Little monster_. He flinched at the fury and the tears in his brother's face that were there both at once and he didn't know how to take them. "Anyway..." he remembered there was something left to say. "Why... why do you think I would kill you? Do you think there is so little heart in me, so little sense?! Do you really think me that much of an ignorant _oaf?!_ "  
There were too many questions, too many things to think about, to give an answer to, and Loki had had his share of thinking for the next few decades because thinking _hurt_ and he never thought something he usually so enjoyed doing could ever hurt so much.  
And so he yelled at Thor, his vocal chords burning at the force behind his words, because it was the only way he could, maybe, drone out his thoughts. "What was I _supposed_ to think?!" he screamed, suppressing a cough. His throat felt raw already. "I came to you to tell you I'm a monster, Thor! I was prepared to be struck dead the second you realised the truth, do you have any _idea_ what it's like, to fear your own brother would not hesitate in killing you because he IS NOT YOUR BROTHER at all, because you're a MONSTER?! And you did not say a thing, you just stood there and stared at me like I had two heads, which probably would have been better yet, and I... and you, you had just started a war with Jotunheim's people because they are monsters, your greatest desire was always to slay them all as soon as you got the chance, what was I- What _am I supposed to think?!_ " He had gotten to his feet at some point and stood before Thor now, panting and struggling to breathe and not knowing what he was doing. "And do not... do not even assume I care about the throne, even if I were of Asgard and Odinson and- I never wanted it, now less than ever-"  
In only a blink of an eye Thor's hands gripped Loki's upper arms and no matter how much Loki grit his teeth and fidgeted, it would not get him anywhere. A thunder growl, a lightning strike. Loki cringed and then he shuddered as if a certain cold had just patted his shoulder. There was rain clattering against the glass like pebbles and the whole world seemed to rumble and quake.  
Thor looked him in the eye. He looked close - not saying anything once _again_ and it was there. The blink of terror. Loki was scared. Thor could feel the blood rushing through his veins, he could feel his drumming heartbeat echoing in his pulse and he saw he was panting - with fear, not with rage.  
"You are a fool..." Thor said, still holding on to Loki. He knew better than his brother. He knew he was no monster (oh well) and he knew the Jotuns were but people, seeking peace, not war. They were no threat for Asgard. And neither was Loki. And he loved him. Loved him, loved him, loved him - even though Loki's tongue silently articulated _You hate me_. But it was a lie - what else?  
"I would never have any intention to kill you... You're my brother and you will stay my brother... and I'm wondering now how often I will have to repeat those words for you to finally believe them..."  
Loki wanted to believe them. He wanted to believe them so badly, but he didn't know if he could. He had tried to hide behind his rage, because yelling and raging at Thor was a protective shield that would keep the fear and pain at bay, hidden deep inside so nobody could see and he himself could pretend they weren't there, but Thor hadn't reacted to it as Loki had anticipated. Thor, with his blatant refusal to get angry himself, with his unexpected lack of temper, had successfully drained the fight right out of Loki, leaving him exposed and helpless and shaking violently beneath his hands.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered unsteadily, choking back a sob. "Thor, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." _For being a monster. For yelling at you. For stealing your little brother. For everything._ Some instinct finally broke through, and suddenly his head was buried in Thor's broad chest. "I don't... I... I'm just... I'm tired." _Scared._ "I'm so tired..."  
And Thor knew Loki was being sincere. He knew it in the way he then breathed a shaky sigh that went right through his chest and was weakly touching his heart. For a moment he had just sat there, his arms awkwardly stretched to the side, his face showing surprise in every way possible. But then a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and he wrapped his arms around his brother once again. He circled them carefully around his head that rested against his corslet (and he wondered how this could be comfortable) and he soothingly brushed his fingers through Loki's black strands. And he felt, his fingers hadn't been gentle for far too long - he had just patted backs and shoulders and smashed glasses and punched blank faces with clenched fists and threw Mjölnir as far as he could.  
" _I'm_ sorry, brother..." he finally said, his voice louder than a whisper but still softer than usual. "I'm... I'm here for you..." He held on to him tighter and he faced the window while he talked, noticing the raindrops weren't as forceful anymore and the loud thunders were but a distant roar. He was calm again. "I know, I haven't been there for you in the past and I could understand it should you decide you can never forgive me my selfishness... But now... I promise, I'll help you and I'll never let you down ever again..." He sighed. "I'm sorry I dragged you to Jotunheim, I'm sorry I made you believe they were monsters, I'm sorry I was disobedient and got us all into trouble... I'm sorry, I'm an oaf, you're right..." He breathed a laugh. And he kept stroking his brother's head, surprised that Loki made no attempt to pull back but gave in to his hug, letting his brother hold him. Loki felt big hands on the back of his head, but they didn't hurt him or tease him, instead softly tangling and untangling his hair and dragging fingernails along his scalp with barely any pressure. He felt himself relax under the touch, his muscles finally loosening a little of their perpetual tension. Thor was warm, a familiar warmth that seemed to be able to chase away the cold Loki wasn't even supposed to feel but that had still managed to leave him trembling. Now, it was slowly disappearing.  
"Shut up," he mumbled. "Stop apologising." Because Thor _was_ an oaf and would always be one, but the right to call him out on that belonged exclusively to Loki. And right now Loki didn't want to, and he didn't actually blame Thor for much either. He couldn't have known.  
After a few minutes, he felt Thor shift his weight ever so slightly, and suddenly he realized that what he was doing really didn't suit a prince and short-term king of Asgard, that it was the middle of the night and he should not embarrass himself any further, and let Thor sleep for just because Loki was unable to find rest, Thor didn't need to be kept awake as well.  
"I... I suppose I will take my leave now." Loki drew back, his cheeks growing warm with a blush as he stumbled over his words, avoiding Thor's gaze. "I shall retreat to my own chambers... forgive me, I-I should not have kept you up." His hands moved on their own accord, smoothing his crumpled attire and fidgeting with his sleeves. He swallowed and bit his lip, resisting the urge to rub his burning eyes. "It... it is good to have you back." He looked down uncertainly, and then snapped his head back up, hastily retreating towards the doors.  
"No, please..." Thor's arm moved up on its own, a gesture that could have been defensive - and as he realised, he turned his palm, his arm sunk down to his side. "You... you are welcome to stay here..." What an odd thing to say. Was it him who needed his brother here bringing back nostalgic childhood memories of them trying to chase away the darkness of the night? Or was it Loki, who - as he could sense - needed Thor's comfort, needed proof that he wouldn't harm him? He could see Loki was hesitating, playing with the hem of his shirt - his knuckles white from the pressure he put on the cloth. It was clearly showing that he was nervous and insecure and as he stood next to the great oak-door that was casting a black shadow only on one side of his tender frame, he seemed lost and small in the gloom around him. A little boy once again, scared - the aftermath of a bad dream.

 _"Thor...? Thor?" - "What is it, little one?" - "I'm scared... there is so much darkness in my room... it feels like it's eating me up..." - "It's alright, Loki... It was only a nightmare... Nothing will harm you... Come here, I'll protect you..."  
_  
"Come..." Thor pointed to his side, pulling the blanket to the side. "There is enough space for both of us..." He smiled again, feeling something tearing at his heart. _Little one_. They were no children anymore. But Loki still needed him. And it felt good to be able to provide that certain help.

He shouldn't. No, really, he shouldn't, he shouldn't even be tempted by Thor's offer. It was ridiculous. They had both long outgrown the age when this was acceptable and not a reason for mockery. He wasn't a child anymore, scared of monsters hiding in his bedroom, for the only monster that was there now was- _no don't think it don't Thor wouldn't like it if you thought that Frigga wouldn't either  
_ Either way, he was too old for this. He didn't need his big brother to crawl into bed next to, so he might soothe him after nightmares of fire and destruction and rage that terrified him just as much as the thought of monsters. He could face them alone, he could sleep alone, he could leave and return to his chambers and lie down there and wait for morning, and it would be fine.  
But he was tired. His head was throbbing with fatigue, and Thor was looking at him with such a hopeful expression, as if he needed Loki with him as much as Loki needed him now, even though he was loath to admit it even to himself. And Thor... he wasn't mocking him. He hadn't laughed at him for seeking solace in his vacant chambers, hadn't mocked his tears, and now gestured towards the wide bed he had gotten up from long minutes ago.  
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay. Just for one night.  
"I do not have sleeping attire on me," he mumbled nonetheless, picking at the hem of his tunic. He took a hesitant step towards Thor, hoping his brother hadn't noticed how he swayed slightly on his feet from exhaustion. "I should at least go and-"  
"Nonono, not necessary!" Thor jumped up from the bed as if he had been stung in the back with a needle. Loki flinched at his words interrupting him impudently. But Thor only trotted to the other end of his chamber - the end that was hidden in darkness - and he was muttering and mumbling to himself, "Oh where did I put that one, it has to be here somewhere..." and as he found what he was looking for he gave a reassuring "Ah!" and pulled it out of a drawer. He threw it in Loki's direction, leaving it to him to catch the piece of red fabric rushing towards him. Then he disappeared behind a folding screen, putting off his heavy armour, letting it fall to the ground with a metal clatter that echoed in the peaceful nightly silence. Loki cringed and his face was chiding him for making so much noise but Thor merely shrugged and grinned.  
"What...?" he chuckled. "Better try on that thing." But in the way Loki was holding the piece of clothing at arms length to look at, lifting one eyebrow in that hilarious way, it rather seemed like he didn't believe he could actually _wear_ that _thing_. And, really, Loki _was_ having a hard time believing it.  
"You do realize that I am a little... well, smaller than you are?" Not to mention that red made him look horrible. But, truly. He stared at the wide piece of clothing, turned it around once he had figured out he was holding it upside down, and then held it in front of his body.  
He gave Thor an unimpressed look at the snort he received in response to that action. "Hilarious, truly," he deadpanned, resisting the urge to throw the thing in his brother's face. There was space for at least two Lokis inside of it, and for a moment he considered demonstrating this with a little magic, but thought better of it. He was ready to keel over as it was, he didn't need to exhaust himself even more; his concentration was already half torn to shreds.  
As Thor returned and looked at him questioningly, dressed in something that fit _him_ quite perfectly, Loki finally rolled his eyes and relented, disappearing behind the same folding screen Thor had used. He wondered when they had become ashamed of undressing in front of each other, but couldn't bring himself to disregard the screen either.  
When he stepped out into the room again, he felt like he was wearing an ill-fitting wide dress, and the scowl on his face must be telling as to what he thought about that. "Thor... don't you dare say a word."  
Thor merely pressed his fist to his mouth, suppressing a chuckle and it sounded like he was choking on something - on his own laughter, surely. But then he cleared his throat as Loki's eyes where shooting daggers at him and he turned his head aside to escape this murderous glare and gave a suppressed giggle once more. "Hihi-sorry..." He turned again. "No, really, it's fine, red looks quite... presentable on you..." He knew, his eyes were betraying his amusement, thus he shook it off and scratched his scalp, shamefaced - also turning a light red himself?  
"No, truly, I'm sorry..." he repeated, climbing in his bed and slipping closer to the window so there would be space for his brother. "Don't be cross...?" It sounded more like a question than a plea. "Still want to come here...?" He patted his hand on the mattress right beside him and he looked at Loki, cocking his head to the side with a genuine, good-natured expression on his features.  
Loki glowered at Thor for a bit longer, but soon decided he didn't really have the energy to keep it up. "Moronic oaf," he muttered and rolled his eyes, stepping towards the bed.  
Two steps away from the soft, inviting looking sheets he found himself hesitating again. Should he really -? With one hand he adjusted his collar, as it was too wide and threatening to slide down his left shoulder, while his other hand wrapped around the bedpost. He kept it there, feeling the need to steady himself, while he eyed both his brother and the bed apprehensively, his lip worried between his teeth.  
But then Thor made an exasperated hand motion and Loki felt his cheeks redden further, finally crawling up beside his brother. He kept his distance, the bed was wide enough, and between himself and Thor there was still space for at least one more person. Eyes darting around, he stiffly lay down on his back, hands knotting together in front of him to keep them from trembling with nervousness as much as exhaustion. "Good night, Thor..."  
"Good night, _brother_ " Thor replied. Looking to the ceiling himself, his lips were pulled into a satisfied grin. He observed his brother with half an eye, noticing how he was turning; careful not to make the blankets rustle too much as he shifted uneasily. Thor then looked at him with both eyes, he saw how he was lying there, only an arm away, turned to the other side, his hands folded beneath his head in a position that didn't look comfortable to him. He was still not entirely _trusting_ Thor or the situation in general but he was _there_ , wrapped in his blankets - even if showing him only his back.  
It surely was strange - it had been centuries ago since they'd last shared a bed, and decades since Loki had even entered Thor's room for more than a quick request or a short report. And still it felt good and the familiarity came with the setting and all of a sudden it wasn't strange or even awkward anymore. It wasn't inappropriate considering they had had more quarrels than battles over the last years. It wasn't outrageous considering Thor's loyal companions or even their father would pull a face and roll their eyes at them in desperation. It wasn't odd, considering they weren't even _really_ related to each other. But that didn't matter. Not at all. _This is my brother._ The affirmation kept coming.  
And finally - as Thor saw him shiver in his blankets - he slipped closer and he reached out to wrap one arm around his brother's lanky figure and he pressed him to his chest tightly, burying his nose in his dark hair.  
Loki jumped in response to the touch, even though he had heard the sheets rustling when Thor moved and so had known to expect the gesture. Still, his body seemed intent on betraying him.  
"You're my teddy bear now..." Thor whispered in Loki's ear and his voice carried a soft trace of laughter.  
While Loki had anticipated Thor's touch, his words were unexpected and made no sense at all. "I am your... what?" What in all the Nine was a "teddy bear", and why would he label Loki as such? He considered turning around and looking at Thor to make clear how ridiculous his statement was, but that would mean facing him while lying in his arms, and Loki could already feel red creep into his cheeks at the mere thought. So he kept as still as possible, desperate to distract both himself and Thor from the soft tremors still running through his body. "I do hope you did not just insult me, _brother_. I might have to take revenge..." He smirked into the dark, flashes of a young Thor screaming and flailing at a whole people of ants crawling around in his sheets.  
"Uuh..." Thor slightly turned his head, so his deep voice wouldn't rumble directly in his brother's ear. "They... have that on Midgard..." He grinned and he knew Loki must feel how the grin spread on his lips as they were still all but buried into his hair. "Small bears made of a peculiar sort of texture and stuffed with cotton... and the humans take them to bed..." He gave a warm chuckle.  
And then, with a joyous sigh, he pulled his brother even closer, taking in the flowery scent of his hair oil. Loki's head rested on his shoulder so he would easily rub his cheek to the back of his skull. His arm was wrapped around Loki's neck, his lower arm resting on his chest, his hand on his shoulder. The other arm enveloped him tightly from the other side, Thor's ever so raw fingertips stroking Loki's hand.  
And Loki was _trembling,_ lying stiff and still, like a statue.  
"Oh come on, loosen up, brother!" He squeezed him and one free hand roughly tousled his strands. The hoarse "Thor...! You're. Breaking. My. Ribs..." went unnoted. Loki was honestly afraid for his bones. Not that Thor seemed to notice any of it.  
"Th-Thor!" he wheezed, his hands coming up and futilely tugging at his brother's arms, trying to free himself. "I can't _breathe_ like- like this, you..." He gasped for breath, and then choked as the air went down the wrong pipe and dissolved into a coughing fit which at least made Thor loosen his grip enough for Loki to get a little distance away while he caught his breath, distantly aware of Thor's calloused hand carefully patting his back.  
When he turned around to glare at his brother, one hand pressed against his aching chest, Thor at least looked properly ashamed, glancing at him apologetically. "If _this_ is what Midgardians do with their 'teddy bears', brother, I suggest you don't view me as such!" He blinked, his brain comprehending what he just said, and shook his head with a suffering groan. "Actually, don't view me as such in general, I am most certainly not a bear..."  
Thor shot back a laugh. "Of course, brother... I'm sorry..." Loki didn't look like he could accept his apology. "Truly, I'm sorry... I hope you're alright?" Loki just sighed and put one hand to his forehead in exasperation - well, one red sleeve, for his hand had fully disappeared beneath the fabric of Thor's far-too-big nightgown as Loki had lifted it. "Come back?" Thor asked, his voice sounding sincerely hopeful. Loki glared at him, his eyes silently saying _Don't get any ideas_ and in response Thor grit his teeth to something that was supposed to be an I'm-sorry-grin and pulled his face into that hangdog expression. Loki actually sunk back down with a moan, truly exhausted and in a slight huff and turned aside. And Thor slowly slid closer again, circling his arms around his brother once more, careful not to break him, as he was as delicate and fragile as a vase. Smiling he tipped his nose and he could feel Loki was crinkling his forehead at the touch. Then he buried his face in Loki's dark strands once again, savouring his oh so personal smell and he closed his eyes.  
"Sleep well, little one" he whispered lovingly and gently stroked his brother's elbow, barely touching him, for he was afraid he might not be capable of as much tenderness as was required.

-

Loki woke up to a sound like someone was sawing trees right next to his bed. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that his bed was inexplicably cold for some reason. The third, when he blearily opened his eyes, was that he wasn't in his bed at all. He was wearing a red nightgown that was made for someone with a much broader frame than his, and in his sleep had somehow managed to curl up inside of it so now his knees were pressed against his chest, and everything except for his head was covered by the red fabric. It was still cold, though.  
With a silent groan, he untangled himself and rolled unto his back, turning his head to the other side. There he discovered the reason for the drop in temperature, as well as the origin of the tree worker that had woken him in the first place.  
Several paces across from him lay Thor, who obviously at some point had decided he was not used to keeping a teddy bear close during sleep and had let his brother go. Loki might have felt relief at that, since it meant he didn't have to worry about waking up with broken ribs at least, but Thor had also decided to keep his _blanket_ close instead of his "teddy bear", taking the whole thing with him when he rolled over. As a result, Loki was left shivering and uncovered beside him. Why had none of them thought of lighting the fire before they went to bed?  
Huffing, Loki sat up and blinked the dizziness away as he reached out, with every intention to snatch a part of the blanket back, but then he paused. Thor was facing him, eyes closed and a gentle smile adorning his features. He looked at peace, and suddenly Loki couldn't bring himself to disturb his rest. And besides, he told himself, if I wake him by accident now he'll just use me as a cuddle toy again, and when he tires of it I'll end up without a blanket once more.  
No, he would have to find another solution. A few minutes he just sat in bed, yawning occasionally, his hair falling in tousled strands around his face, his thoughts moving sluggishly, as if still half asleep. Looking around tiredly, his eyes fell on the folding screen in the corner. He blinked, twice, before he made up his mind and made his way towards it.

As he stumbled back to bed and let himself collapse upon the soft sheets (he knew the impact wouldn't wake Thor, he had once literally slept through an earthquake), he couldn't help but smile. His brother's cape dragged behind him, but the servants kept the floor clean, so Loki knew there would be no complaints about dust in the morrow, and it was _warm_ , as if Thor's warmth still lingered and clung to it even after hours. He wrapped it around himself, coming to lie next to his brother again, closer than he would have had the other been awake, and facing him this time. Still propped up on his elbow, he considered Thor's sleeping form for a moment, before hesitantly reaching out a hand and smoothing back a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his face and now fluttered slightly with every breath. "Sleep well, brother." Warm once more, Loki closed his eyes, concentrating on the regular snoring beside him instead of trying to block it out, and let the familiar sound rock him back to the land of sleep.


End file.
